


Persistence

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-09
Updated: 2007-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-26 06:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: After months of resisting, Hermione finally acknowledges how she feels.





	Persistence

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Thanks to [](http://florahart.livejournal.com/profile)[**florahart**](http://florahart.livejournal.com/) for the beta. This is for [](http://heather11483.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://heather11483.livejournal.com/)**heather11483** because I promised her ages ago that I'd write Roger/Hermione  


* * *

"I'm not interested, so would you please stop stalking me? It's becoming bothersome."

"I'm afraid that I can't do that, Granger. What sort of friend would I be if I let you lie to yourself and miss the best thing that will ever happen to you? Besides, stalking is just common and unseemly, so it's obviously not something that I'd ever do."

"First, we're not friends, Davies. We're merely acquaintances who happen to share friends, which means we're stuck attending the same parties more often than not. Do not mistake proximity for friendship. Second, you're an arrogant, conceited, infuriating _Quidditch player_ who has obviously taken too many Bludgers to the head. Now, why don't you run along until you find a suitably vapid female who is actually impressed by your bat size and cocky attitude."

"Former Quidditch player,“ he corrected with a grin. “You know, I never realized how bloody hot multi-syllable words were until I met you."

"Oh, just go away!" Hermione snarled in a whispered hiss as she glared at the smug git standing beside her.

"And leave you bereft without my presence? Never. I'm afraid you're stuck with me. At least until you agree to stop pretending that you weren't in my bed not even two weeks ago with your knickers around your knees and my fingers in your---" The rest of his words were muffled by her hand as she gaped at him with wide eyes.

"I told you to forget that obvious lapse in judgment," she reminded him tightly, fully aware that her cheeks were flushed with color and that her body was warm from the memory of that particular evening. _Stop it. Do not think about it. You don't even like him._

He reached up and wrapped his fingers around her wrist before pulling her hand away from his mouth. His smile was anything but innocent as he fluttered his eyelashes. "I'm afraid that my memory is quite sharp, Granger. It seems that yours, however, is impaired. Such a shame, really. Just twenty-five and already so forgetful. It's my duty to remind you, of course. All for the sake of retrieving those lost memories. Fortunately, I've not forgotten anything, from the way you kissed me as if the world might bloody well end if you didn't have my tongue in your mouth to those breathy little moans you made when I nibbled on your neck to the way you smelled, like vanilla and sweat and sex."

"I hate you," she whispered, looking around frantically to make sure no one had heard. If he'd let go of her wrist, she'd Apparate away, she decided. If she ignored him, surely he'd get tired of this obnoxious game of pursuit that he'd started months ago. It was her fault, of course, for actually indulging her desires and kissing him with the foolish theory that he'd be so surprised, he'd forget his silly plan. Instead, she'd ended up in his bed with her skirt around her waist and his head buried between her legs before she'd regained some resemblance of sanity.

"You love me," he corrected, flashing the boyish smile that had most females tossing their knickers at him. From Hermione, it simply earned him another glare as she tugged on her wrist and tried to decide if she could reach her wand with her left hand.

She was immune, of course, because it took more than a handsome face and nice smile to get her knickers off. For months, she'd resisted Roger's ridiculous seduction schemes. They’d met at Cho’s birthday party, introduced by George, who had taken it upon himself to make his girlfriend’s birthday perfect, and they’d ended up spending half the night bickering about everything from the value of sports to youngsters to the latest laws proposed by the Ministry. Throughout their debating, she’d had a feeling that he was possibly deliberately taunting her with viewpoints that weren’t even his own, simply to argue with her.

To say that receiving an invitation for dinner the next day to ‘continue our conversation’ was a surprise would be a vast understatement. She’d declined, of course, because she’d had work to do and didn’t believe it at all sincere. He was merely being polite or else he was bored and desired the opportunity for a little healthy debate. Regardless, work had taken precedence as it so often did, so she’d sent a polite refusal and gone about her day. It had been a week later when she'd run into him at another party, and then he'd happened to show up at the pub on the one night a week that had become routine for her to take time from work to see her friends.

From never seeing Davies during the years after Hogwarts to suddenly running into him a couple of times a week was a bit too much to be coincidence. However, she certainly didn’t want to voice her suspicions to anyone because, really, she knew she’d just sound paranoid or, god forbid, like it was wishful thinking. It was true that she enjoyed their conversations, even when he deliberately disagreed just to annoy her, and she found that parties were much more enjoyable when she wasn’t standing around alone. But she certainly didn’t look forward to seeing him nor had she been disappointed when he missed pub night once due to a business trip.

There were no more formal dinner invitations, not since the first, but he’d casually asked her to lunch a few times or mentioned a new restaurant here or there that she might like. While she had a lot of friends, many of whom were male, she had always found an excuse as to why she couldn’t meet for lunch and she’d never pursued the opening regarding a possible dinner date. It wasn’t fear, because she’d been on dates before and didn’t think he wasn’t trust worthy in that regard, yet she now realized that it might have been a different sort of fear. The fear of letting go or doing something unplanned, which was very present whenever she was around him.

Also, there was frustration because she just couldn’t figure out _why_ he wanted to go out with her, whether it was just to debate and bicker or if he had other motives, and her confusion over his attention wasn’t helped at all after Fred and George sat her down for 'a talk', which had consisted of them warning her off Roger because he was a smug git and had a reputation that they didn't approve of when it came to a bloke being involved with her. That conversation had landed on her list of Top Ten Things I Never Ever Wish to Repeat In My Entire Life, right below 'facing an evil wizard' and 'walking in on my parents having sex'.

In recent weeks, he had changed his tactics. There had been more casual touches, never improper but skin-tingling nonetheless, and he’d begun watching her in a way that made her skin flush. It had become obvious to their friends in a way that it hadn‘t been before, which made her feel terribly uncomfortable. She didn’t like being watched as if they were a bloody Quidditch match, and she’d threatened the twins with bodily harm when she heard Seamus discussing a wager pool the gits had started. Of all the nerve; first warning her off and then turning around to take bets on when she’d give ‘the poor bloke’ a date. Thankfully, they had no idea about the events of two weeks ago, and she certainly had no intention of anyone finding out. It had been one slip, one moment of daring that had backfired on her in the worst way possible, even if one of the voices in her head argued that it had been far too enjoyable to be considered anything but best.

She shook her head slightly and frowned at him. "A prime example of why I do _not_ love you is right there. The very fact that you can say that word in such a casual way with no support or basis in fact just proves your ridiculous theory of fate is the result of head trauma or possibly insanity. Either way, I suggest that you visit St. Mungos and stay there until they fix you. Let go of my wrist now so I can make nice to the birthday boy and then go home."

"I would be cliche and say that the lady doth protest too much, but I'd rather be genuine and say that you want me, as proven by you coming apart for me twice before running away like a scared kitten, and the fact that you do want me scares the hell out of you," he said seriously. "So, that leaves us with me forcing you to confront your desire, and good taste, and not listening to all your excuses masquerading as intelligent-sounding nonsense."

If it wasn’t infuriating enough that Roger Davies had somehow managed to become more good-looking and charming since he’d been the dashing Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain that had caught her attention far too many years ago, the annoying git just had to be one of the more intelligent men she’d ever met. Despite spending several years as a professional player, he’d retired at the height of his career and gone into business for himself, becoming quite successful due to actual skill instead of his face and his name. That was the frustrating part because she couldn’t just dismiss him as another pretty face with an empty head.

“Why won’t you just give up?” she finally asked, sighing as she looked up at him.

“I considered it,” he admitted. “After I changed my tactics from directness to subtlety and neither of them worked, I thought maybe I was wrong and you’d not felt it, too. Not one for losing, whether it’s a match, business, or personal, so I figured it was best to just give up and move on. But, see, I’d buggered myself too much by then because it was no longer just a challenge, which I shamefully admit it began as after you bewitched me at Cho’s party and then wouldn’t even go on a date with me. By that point, I couldn’t just walk away and never know. So, I just started being myself, warts and all, because I wanted a chance.”

“Is this another tactic?” She was trying to process everything he’d just said, as she’d not expected him to actually tell her all that, and she couldn’t help being slightly suspicious now that he’d admitted to seeing it as a challenge, just a game, and even showing her different sides of himself in an effort to win. It was probably fitting, then, that she’d not really shown any weakness around him until he’d actually given up his game playing and just been himself. She arched a brow and studied him. “The new one being to be honest and show a sensitive side in case this works on me since obnoxious arrogance didn’t, nor did charming flirt?”

“What?“ He just looked her a moment before his expression hardened. He let go of her wrist and shook his head. “Fine. I give up. I’ll not bother you anymore.”

He turned and was through the crowd before she had a chance to say anything. This was what she’d wanted since he’d first come into her life and disrupted it, so she should be happy. He was too charming and smug for her taste, after all, and they’d be an utter disaster as a relationship, since he was relaxed and she was focused. It was better to just not even try, versus dealing with the complications and possibly being hurt. It was a good thing that he’d finally given up on her.

Only, it didn’t feel very good at all. In fact, it felt downright awful. She’d resisted for months, even denying that they were friends despite knowing they’d developed a friendship, and he’d remained persistent but patient. True, he’d been obnoxious at first and not at all subtle, but he _had_ changed just enough for her to know he’d been telling the truth about stopping the games and just being himself. Maybe it was time for her to do the same.

She put down her drink and went to find him. It was impossible to get around everyone quickly, but she finally managed to reach the other side of the room. It was possible that he’d just left and gone home, yet she doubted he’d be so rude as to stay such a short time at a friend’s birthday celebration. At least, she hoped so because she didn’t want to have to try to find him.

A search of the house, however, didn’t produce favorable results at all. It was only by chance that she glanced out the window during a moment when she was resisting the urge to scream and noticed him standing outside looking at the moon. She hurried downstairs and had to go through the crowd again but finally made it to the backdoor. After she smoothed down her hair and squared her shoulders, she stepped outside.

Roger glanced up at the sound of the door opening, and it was obvious that he’d not expected to see her. Before he could say anything, she said, “You can have a chance. I mean, if you still want it. I was just scared, I guess, and I thought you weren’t being completely honest, which bothered me. I didn’t just want to be another notch or a challenge in the game of your life. A couple of weeks ago, when we, uh, when we spent the evening together, I knew I wanted more and it terrified me so much that I just avoided you. You still wouldn’t give up though, you infuriating man.”

“Bloody hell, woman. Don’t you need to take a breath?” he asked, smiling slowly as he walked towards her. “And I’m not infuriating. I’m just persistent.”

“Hmph. Annoying, obnoxious, arrogant, charm---” The rest of her words were caught by his lips as he kissed her, but, for once, she didn‘t mind being interrupted. Not at all.


End file.
